Soldat
by CyberWolfWrites
Summary: Hydra's created a new weapon who the Avengers have only known to be called as Soldat. Follow them as they learn what she is, who she is, and what she is capable of. There may or may not be some fluff added somewhere.
1. Chapter 1

She stands in the center of the mat, staring ahead of her. In front of her are five men, two more than twice her size and three of average height and build for a Hydra agent. Her shoulders are squared and her feet are shoulder-width apart, her hands held behind her back.

All five men stand in a fighting position, all of them waiting for the starting bell to sound. A little ring sounds and suddenly all of them are surrounding the girl. She continues to stare ahead as the men surround her, her face devoid of emotion.

She eyes them out of the corner of her eyes as they pass her, all of them waiting for the chance to start. One of the larger men bites the bullet and lunges forward. Within a second, she's wrapped around him, pulling at his arms and bringing him to his knees.

The other men jump at her, too, wanting to protect their teammate. They're too late, however, as her elbow strikes his head and he slumps over. One of the men grab her and attempts to throw her over his shoulder. She flips herself and using her legs, brings him to the ground. She doesn't have the chance to knock him out as she has to block a blow from the only other large guy.

She grabs his wrist as he tries to pull it away, and she tugs him forward. She falls backward and she places her feet at his waist, easily throwing him, despite his heavy weight, over her. He lands on the ground with a thud, not having expected the action, and takes a few seconds to reorient himself.

Those few seconds cost him dearly as she kicks one of the average men away from her and punches another, and she lunges at him. She grabs his head and knees him in the face, making him groan out in pain as blood flies from his mouth and nose. She doesn't blink an eye at the painful sound or the blood as she does it two more times before the remaining three average men run over to her.

The large man slumps over just as two bodies crash into her. She barely lets out a puff of air as she twists herself from under them before they even have the chance to pin her down. She's up on her feet before they are and she grabs the wrist of the man who didn't lunge at her and she twists it behind his back.

He nearly falls to his knees, but he throws his leg backward, hitting her. She narrows her eye at the pain before she moves his wrist just a bit further to the side, causing him to scream in pain as it breaks. She pushes him forward and he knocks down the two men who have recovered.

She jumps at one of the other two, her fist flying forward as it strikes the side of his head. She throws another punch, but he blocks it, grabbing her wrist. She allows him to pull her forward, and thus out of range of the other two, and she twists her body around, causing his arm to bend in an unnatural angle.

She raises her leg and kicks at the arm, causing him to let go of her in pain. He throws his other arm forward and barely manages to touch her before she's on him and striking at his throat. He chokes and grabs at it as she takes the chance to strike him in the head.

She rolls off him as the two other men jump at her, not worrying about him any longer as his head slams into the ground, knocking him out in the process. She kicks one of the men in the leg, but he grabs her before she can get out of his reach.

He spins her around in his hold and wraps his arms around her as the other man who kicked her approaches her. She doesn't waste a second to throw her head backward, the blow not cushioned from her short pixie-cut hair.

He groans in pain as she twists his arm and brings him to his knees. She's forced to let go of him, however as a fist strikes her side. _Shit,_ she thinks, narrowing her eyes into slits. _I'm going to get punished for this._

She grabs his wrist and pulls him forward. She head-butts him in the head and she kicks his knee, sending him to the ground. With her current target down for the count momentarily, she focuses on the other man, who has yet to rise to his feet, and easily strikes him in the head with her foot.

He falls to the side and she lunges at him, punching him one more time and making his eyes roll into the back of his head. She throws herself off him as the last remaining man lunges at her. His hand grabs her upper arm and tugs her towards him.

She allows herself to be pulled forward but she throws herself to the side. He's forced to the side as well and she takes the advantage to spin around and throw herself onto his back. She doesn't pay mind to his sputtered curse as he's forced to his knees. He tries to grab at her as she wraps her arm around his throat, her other hand at the top of his head.

He attempts to grab at her hair, but with it cropped short in a pixie cut with just a little length to the top of her light blonde curls, he can't get a hold on her. He grips her arm in a tight grip with both of his hands as she strangles him, and she knows that she's going to have bruises in the morning.

She looks upwards at a man standing at the side of the man who has stood there the entire time of the fight. She tilts her head to the side slightly, awaiting her orders. His eyes flicker down to the man gasping in her grip and he gives a sharp nod of his head.

She doesn't hesitate to twist the man's head, breaking his neck. She stands up tall as his body slumps to the floor, his neck at an awkward angle. She returns to her beginning position, feet shoulder-width apart and her head held high. She's barely breathing hard and her face is blank of emotion, despite just snapping the neck of a man and knocking out four others.

"Get back to your cell, _Soldat_ ," the man spits out. She doesn't even bat an eye at the harshness of the order despite her winning the sparring match. He's always like this. She gives a sharp salute before stepping over one of the unconscious men, heading towards the doors of the training room.

With a sharp click, the video screen goes black.

"What the hell was that?" Tony spits out, his gaze turning to Fury who stands at the head of the table. Tony removes his feet from the table and narrows his eyes at the man.

The rest of the team have varying expressions of shock or blankness. "That," Fury says, nodding to an image of the girl that's just popped up. "Is Hydra's new weapon." They all look at him with dry shocked looks.

"According to the files we've raided from a base built in nineteen-ninety-seven, this girl was born in Hydra captivity. She was taken from her mother not even a day old and her mother was executed. The file also states that her mother had been given an unfinished version of the super-soldier-serum and that she seems to possess increased healing, stamina, speed, and strength."

"So, we've got another Winter Soldier on our hands?" Sam asks, raising an eyebrow. Steve cuts him a sharp look and Bucky stares blankly at him with narrowed eyes as his metal hand clenches into a fist.

"Not exactly," Fury starts, flipping through the girl's file. "According to this file she's not even being controlled like Barnes was. She doesn't need her memory wiped since she's been raised by Hydra and there are no mentions of her ever being 'activated' or controlled with trigger words. She's working there completely of her own accord."

"How do you know she's there because she wants to be?" Steve asks. "She's never been given a chance to do anything else. And who knows what they've done to her to make her that way? She grew up in Hydra, but surely she knows that she was taken from her mother and that she's being held captive by them?"

Bucky gives Steve a meaningful look. He would have said something, but he didn't attempt it in fear of saying something wrong. He's glad that his friend isn't against the girl who's being used just as he was with no choice as to what to do.

"He's right," Natasha says, drawing everyone's attention to her. "However, this girl is dangerous. She literally just took down five men within five minutes and she wasn't even breathing hard at the end."

"And don't forget the fact that she snapped one of their necks with a single nod from that Commander," Clint points out. Natasha and Steve glare at him, but he waves the looks off. "If you want to go ahead and try to reform her, you're going to have to let her know that she can't do that."

"Who said that I wanted to reform her?" Fury says with a raised eyebrow. Everyone gives him dull looks.

"Why else would you call us in for a meeting?" Tony says dryly. "It's obvious we're going to raid this base and take the girl into custody." Fury stares him down for a few minutes before growling out a sigh.

"Yes, we're going to raid the base and take the girl into custody," he states, flipping to a floor plan of the base. "However, we're going to question her on what she knows. Barnes, do you recognize this place?" A few people raise an eyebrow and their eyes flicker to Bucky who is staring ahead at the screen, studying the floor plan with intrigue.

He narrows his eyes at the screen before shaking his head. "Must be a newer facility," he states. "I don't recognize it at all." There are a few sighs of disappointment before everyone refocuses on the director.

"You're leaving tomorrow," Fury states, tossing a few manila folders onto the stainless steel table. "Study up."


	2. Chapter 2

She's laying down on her cold and stiff cot. It has yet to soften with use as she's just recently been moved up here to the cells with less security. This is all she knows. Train mostly all day. Shower with cold water. Return to her cell. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Sometimes she'd skip a day for them to stick some more needles in her or to mess with her collar.

Her fingers lift from her side and she traces her finger over the collar. She's had one ever since she was born, she believes. She remembers that anytime she'd cry after training when she was younger or anytime she'd fail or mess up, they'd shock her with it.

At first, they only needed a little zap to force her to stop crying or acting out, but as she kept getting shocked more and more for things she didn't understand, she built up a tolerance. When she was in her thirteenth year they had removed her collar for the first time in a decade.

She remembers feeling great relief and confusion. Her neck had felt weird without the constant pressure. They had always had it on a little tight and she had gotten used to the restricted air flow, so when her collar was removed for a total of seventeen minutes and twenty-seven seconds-she counted-she had finally felt what it was like to take in a full deep breath. She had nearly coughed at the strain on her throat but didn't dare to in fear of them sticking it back on her.

They hadn't ended up sticking _that_ particular collar on her. They had given her a new one. The old one was pure metal with some leather around it. It was also pretty thick and one part of it had a big box on it where the electric shocks came from. The metal would make her throat sting as it shocked her.

The new collar, she finds, is much more painful, but thankfully, it is much smaller. If she had to guess, it's approximately a centimeter and a half thick. The other one had been over an inch thick. The collar is a pure dark silver color and the inside has thin prongs that stick into her neck and cause even more pain when she's shocked. She estimates that the prongs are no longer than three millimeters in length.

She removes her hand from the purely metal collar, not daring to touch the small thicker section on it. She knows that part is where the shocks come from and one time she had touched it, only for it to shock her so bad that her finger had burns on it. She's learned her lesson.

She jumps off the cot and stands near the metal door as the alert sirens begin to ring. She's positioned with her feet shoulder-width apart and her hands by her side as she waits for the Commander to come to tell her her orders.

They've drilled it into her that should the sirens to ring, that she must wait until someone with authority over her tells her what to do. Her face is blank though she's secretly annoyed at the constant blaring and the flashing lights flooding through her door window.

She blinks her eyes at the light and shrugs her shoulders gingerly, aware of the still tender lacerations running up and down her back and shoulders. Like she had thought, she was punished for the one soldier that managed to get a hit on her. She hadn't forgotten what the Commander and the scientists would do to her when she failed, but she sure as hell didn't expect them to whip her over twenty times and then stab her with a needle. They'd usually just shock her a few times, mostly until she was brought to her knees and nearly crying out in pain-she rarely does that.

She stands there, tense, as the lights begin to flicker. She can hear a commotion upstairs and her guard had run as soon as there was a large bang from upstairs, but she still stands there, waiting for her orders.

She's not necessarily pleased with being ordered away and doing everything they say, but it's all she knows. She doesn't like these people. She knows that they cause others pain as she's seen other soldiers being experimented on. None of them made it.

She listens to them and barely cares to ask for the finer details on her missions. They're usually to take out enemies of Hydra. They told her that those people were bad people. That they were spreading evil. She believes them and thus she didn't bat an eye when she drove her dagger in their throats. Her specialty is daggers, not guns. That's not to say she doesn't know how to use the weapons, she's just been trained in using blades and her body instead of a firearm.

Her heart spikes a bit as the shouts of the Hydra agents on the upper levels begin to quiet. She knows what that means but she can't bring herself to care. These people like to hurt her or antagonize her and then she gets punished when she retaliates. She doesn't like them, but she listens to them anyway. They have kept her alive over the past twenty-four years and therefore she must show gratitude towards them. That doesn't mean she's loyal to them, however. She just listens to her orders and completes them. She doesn't care.

She slinks backward into the shadows of her cell, knowing that whoever's attacking the base will come down here for her. She knows that the Commander would have escaped by now and she suspects that an agent will be sent down here to retrieve her. This has happened before. She's used to it.

She presses herself to the cold concrete wall, barely flinching as the cuts on her back open and warm blood begins to pour down her back. They'll close within the next ten minutes or so and she can't really feel the pain-she's been conditioned not to-though they ache.

She can hear guns going off and she has a feeling nearly every single bullet hits their mark. She doesn't bother counting the bullets. She doesn't care about the casualties. She just has to wait until one of her handles come down to retrieve her.

She tenses as the door at the end of the hall is slammed open. She knows it's not one of her handlers. They have keys and they wouldn't have had to break the door open. _These people are not Hydra,_ she thinks to herself, her eyes narrowed.

She keeps her eyes trained at the small barred window at her door. She can hear the people, two males by the deep baritone of their voices, and she can hear them breaking through every single metal door. She presses closer into the shadows near her cot in the corner, knowing that they'll open her cell door soon enough. As they get closer, she can hear some of their conversation.

"...think she's here?" she hears one of the men ask in English. She's suddenly glad that she had been forced to learn many different languages, English being one of them. She tilts her head to the side at the seriousness in his voice, but she can detect another emotion in his voice. She can't tell what it is, however.

"Don't know, punk," the other man with a slightly higher pitch says. It's still deep, though not as smooth as the other man's. It's rough and it sounds like he doesn't speak much. "Just gotta find out before we blow the place up." She blinks in shock. _They're going to blow the base up?_

She frowns. While she may not like the place. In fact, she hates it, but it's been her home for years. She was moved here when she was young, though she doesn't remember her age. She knows it was under her tenth year, though.

She prepares herself for a fight, as she's sure is going to happen, as the cell door across from her cell is slammed open. All of these cells are empty as all of the testing subjects have been killed and the scientists haven't been able to get new ones for a few months. She stares up as the one man with the smooth voice slams her door open.

She doubts he can see her as there was little light in the hallway, to begin with, and she's hidden in the darkest place of her cell. She holds still as her breath is caught in her throat. _Please don't look at me._

The man, from what she can see in the dimmed lights, is dressed in an odd red, white, and blue tactile uniform. He's got a helmet covering the majority of his face with an _A_ at the top, and a shield, which she's pretty sure he used to break the lock on her door, which has red and white rings and a white start in the center with blue surrounding it.

She eyes up his uniform. She can see two guns in his belt, though she suspects that he usually doesn't bother with using them. His suit has stripes on the stomach area with the rest being a dark blue. He's got a white star in the center of his chest as well.

He squints through and looks over her cell, eyes lingering on the wall with her blood on it, before shaking his head. "Clear," he mutters to the man behind him. She barely gets a glimpse at the man behind him before her eyes widen. He's got a mask covering the bottom part of his face and his uniform is black. It looks like it's made of the same material her own mission uniforms. But that's not what made her eyes widen. It's his metal arm. _The Winter Soldier. Why is he here? He's left Hydra._

The man in the obviously American influenced suit steps back, preparing to take out the door on the cell right next to hers. The Soldier doesn't step back, though, as he tilts his head to the side. She swallows and ignores the urge to breathe. _Shit._

"Steve..." the soldier says, his eyes directed at her. She knows that he can't exactly see her, though he somehow knows she's here. She doesn't waste a second and launches herself off the ground and into him. He had foolishly stepped into the cell to get a better look, but that made him closer her.

He falls back in surprise, but he easily rolls them over and she ignores the pain in her back. She has a feeling the back of her white shirt is crimson and sticky. She hears a surprised sound escape the two soldiers as she kicks him, knocking the Soldier into the other man-Steve. She brings herself to her feet within half a second and stares at them with cold dead eyes, positioning herself into a fighting form.

Steve immediately puts his hands up in what she assumes is meant to be a comforting gesture, but all it does is make her eyes narrow on him and her body tense further. The two men share a glance before turning back to her tense form. She doesn't try to fight them or run, and that confuses her.

She eyes up the Soldier with suspicion and he's doing the same, a pistol aimed at her. Steve hits his arm, gives him a look, and he lowers the weapon but doesn't put it away completely. _He's smart,_ she observes. _Making sure he can easily pull the weapon on me just in case._

They stand there in tense silence as the firefight continues upstairs. She can hear muffled voices coming from both of their comms. "Hey, there," Steve says in a settling calm voice. "We're not here to hurt you." She frowns and stares at them with suspicion. They always want to hurt her, not that she'd show she's in pain. "Why don't you come with us?" She blinks at him slowly and the Soldier snorts.

She hesitates a few moments as she thinks it over. She doesn't like Hydra, but they've been so gracious as to keep her alive. They are all she knows. And she doesn't know these men. She shakes her head slowly, not backing out of her fighting stance. She can tell that the two men noticed her hesitance.

"You don't have to be here anymore," Steve mutters lowly, taking a slow step forward, his hands still held open to show her that he's no harm. "You don't have to do what they say. We won't hurt you. _They_ won't hurt you." She can sense no lies in his voice and that makes her conflicted as she loosens just a bit. She swallows and ignores the urge to pull at her collar. It doesn't do anything, anyway. Their eyes trail over her form before stopping at her feet. She knows that they're seeing. The blood that's dripping from her back.

"We can heal you," the Soldier says, causing her to tense up again. She doesn't want to be near any men with lab coats and he seems to understand that. "No scientists to experiment on you. I promise." She keeps her face blank but she can feel a foreign emotion bubble up in her. _Hope?_

"Will you come with us?" Steve says, looking at her with bright blue eyes. She stares into his eyes for a few moments, conflicted. _Will Hydra find me? They'll hurt me again. But on the other hand... I can finally leave. I don't have to follow his orders anymore._ "Come with us," he implores.

She eases out of her fighting stance but keeps herself ready for a fight. She sees the Soldier lower his gun all the way, but she keeps herself tense. Steve squints his eyes as he listens to his comm and she can tell that the Soldier hears as well. He presses the side of his comm, keeping an eye on her. She ignores the urge to wince at the burning pain in her back. She can feel the wounds begin to close up again, though.

"She's agreed to come with us..." he says, tilting his head to the side as he listens again. "No, we didn't threaten her... No, Tony, she won't kill anyone. Just stay away from her and you'll be fine. I have a feeling she's uncomfortable around people." _You bet I am,_ she thinks to herself, but her face is still held neutral. He nods his head once. "We'll be right up after we check the rest of the cells."

"No one else is here," she says without thinking, immediately tensing as she realized that she spoke out of turn and without permission. Her voice is airy and scratchy and cracked once with disuse. Both men immediately look at her and she swallows, her face paling slightly.

The blonde nods at her but the Soldier keeps staring at her as Steve relays the message. "You will not be punished for speaking without permission," he says lowly, easily reading her. She stands tense and waits for the punishment anyway. "You are allowed to speak." She doesn't hear a lie in his voice and she settles slightly at the allowance. He's not the Commander, but he is of high authority. She nods her head in a sharp nod before Steve turns his gaze back to the Soldier.

"They've rigged up the place and have taken the living agents and scientists into custody," he says, his voice serious again. She's familiar with this tone of voice, so she doesn't turn away from it. He locks eyes with the Soldier and then her. "Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

She follows after them with little trouble despite the pain in her back. They make it through the lower levels of the base easily. Her cell was located on the last level of the underground part of the base. The base is much smaller than the usual base, she knows, with only five lower levels.

The fifth level is the cells, the fourth is the experimentation rooms and the medical area, the third is the training rooms, the second is the cafeteria and boarding rooms, and the first is a research and development area as well as debriefing area. She remembers going in there pretty frequently when retrieving her missions, though she suspects that she's never been given all of the full details like her handlers.

They'd be in charge in getting her to where her mission is, as well as getting her back. She's never thought about running, but she knows what would happen to her if she even thought about it. They had given her a very serious demonstration once. They had turned her collar to the highest setting and it was enough to immediately cause her to drop to her knees in pain and scream out. She's just seriously hoping that they won't do that to her.

They pass an area with weapons, and without thinking, she grabs two daggers. She slips one into her shoe and the other into her sweatpants pocket. The two soldiers in front of her don't notice, too busy checking the various corridors for a straggling agent.

They easily clear the bottom five levels and Steve steps forward to open the door while the Soldier, stands next to her. Her blood pumps through her veins and her instincts are shouting at her to take out the traitor and the intruder, but she tamps it down. She doesn't want to follow Hydra's orders anymore, despite having been brought up by them.

They will never treat her like any of the other agents. Normal agents don't sleep in cells or wear collars that shock them if they make a small mistake. Normal agents don't train from early morning to late at night. Normal agents aren't sent on assassination missions.

The door they chose leads straight to the outside world. Steve steps forward through the door after checking outside of it and muttering something into his comm. He holds it open and gestures for her to step through it and towards him. She does it without a second thought, taking it as an order, however, she freezes right before she can step out.

Her hand flies toward her neck and she traces over it softly, making both of the soldiers look at it. Both have varying expressions. Steve holds confusion and curiosity in his eyes, as well as a little pity. The Soldier, however, his blue eyes are dark and stormy. He glares at the collar around her throat. She's surprised at the fury and disgust in his eyes as he looks at it.

"What is that?" Steve asks in his smooth serious voice. She swallows and hides a wince as the prongs dig further into her throat. Before she can say anything, the Soldier speaks up.

"It's a shock collar," he growls out in his raspy voice. "A newer technique among Hydra to get their soldiers to do what they want." Steve's eyes widen and flicker to the collar before looking into her brown eyes for confirmation. All she does is nod.

"Will it shock you if you step outside the building?" Steve asks her. She tilts her head to the side and steps outside the building. It's never shocked her when she had to leave during her missions but she has no idea if the Commander has a system up where he can set up a radius where she cannot step out from. The tightness in her chest lessens when she doesn't get shocked and it seems that Steve's shoulder slump in relief as she isn't currently writhing on the ground in pain. "Let's head to the quinjet."

The exterior lights from the building aren't working, nor are the lights on the inside. She assumes that they cut the power and the backup generators just powered the warning lights and the sirens. There are a few jets in the clearing next to the building. One, she can see, holds the only living Hydra agents. There are only about twenty and none of them look over to her.

She can see people in black tactile uniforms moving crates from the base out and into the other jet. She's steered towards the last 'quinjet' and the bay door is lowered. From her position, she can spot two people. One woman and one male, though she suspects that there may be another person on hand.

She follows Steve up the ramp and the Soldier stands beside her. She's pretty sure that he'd waste no time apprehending her should she decide to run. The man and woman stop talking as they see the man in front of her, and when she walks into the cabin of the jet, both of their eyes immediately snap to her.

The woman seems to be assessing her as she does to her and the man is just looking at her in lazy curiosity. He has a pair of jeans on and an old t-shirt and he looks to be older than everyone else. His hair is brown and he has a small beard. He looks like a decent component in a fight, but she can easily have him pinned or dead within a minute or two.

The woman, now she may be trouble. Her hair is a dark red color and she's wearing a tactile uniform much like hers when she goes out on missions. It's black and clings to her body, as well as having a utility belt around her hips and holsters around her thighs. It's clear that she's a fighter, and she's willing to bet that she'd have some trouble pinning her.

She removes her eyes from the two people and looks over the interior of the quinjet. There are eight seats, four along each wall, and behind them is an area where someone can lay down or put luggage. She can see straight to the cockpit. There's an older man in the pilot's chair and she can see only a little gray in the roots of his hair, barely visible.

She can tell that he knows _some_ fighting maneuvers, though she suspects that he will be no trouble. _Except for the fact that he seems to be hiding something huge behind that calm and collected facade,_ she thinks, removing her eyes from his after a few moments.

Her eyes return to the Soldier beside her and he nods to the closest chair. She reluctantly does as he suggests and takes a seat on the chair, blinking as she sinks into the cushion slightly. She doesn't let her back hit the back of the chair and she sits up straight and tense, not liking the fact that she is surrounded by people.

The man in the pilot's chair messes around with a few things, calling over the woman-Natasha, and she takes his seat as he takes the co-pilot seat. "Everyone sit down. We're going to head out while they continue loading everything up," Natasha says. The three standing men take seats in the chairs, but don't bother strapping themselves in. Within a minute, they're in the air.

They all stand there awkwardly as the man in the co-pilot's chair looks at a small tablet. "Steve," he calls out, drawing the man's attention. "You said she was hurt?" Her head snaps to his direction and her eyes narrow into cold slits as Steve nods, looking at her.

He turns to her with a kind face. "Would you mind if I scan you for your injuries?" She continues staring at him through narrowed, suspicious eyes. "I promise I won't touch you, and if I do, you have permission to break my wrist." The man seems to be joking slightly at the last part, but she takes it to heart. She cautiously nods and he stands from where he's sitting and walks over to her. He stops about three feet away from her.

"Can you stand up, please?" he asks her in a soft and calm voice. She immediately does as he says and stands in front of him tensely. He holds up a small tablet and fidgets with it slightly. "There's a program in here that can scan you body for any abnormalities as well as keep tabs on your body temperature and vitals. It won't take more than a few seconds to gather all information related to your health" She tilts her head in curiosity of the technology and nods her head, showing that she understands. "Quick question, do you have any trackers or anything unnatural?"

She purses her lips and nods her head, holding her arm out and pointing to a small scar on her arm. He takes a step closer and looks at her arm, but doesn't attempt to grab it or anything. He purses his lips as everyone on the jet looks up in alarm at the new information. "We need to remove it before anyone that could have possibly escaped finds where we are," Natasha points out, standing from the pilot's seat, having most likely put the jet on autopilot.

Her eyes flicker between the two standing people and she lowers her arm. "I can cut it out," she says tentatively, pulling the small dagger out of her sweatpants pocket. They all look at the blade in her hand, to her face, and then over to the soldiers whose eyes are currently locked onto the dagger with baffled looks.

"You didn't have a weapon on you when we found you," the Soldier states, raising eyebrow and looking into her eyes. "When did you get that?" She shrugs her shoulders and lifts her right arm where they placed her tracker. Before anyone can stop her, the tip of the blade digs into her skin and she places the dagger in her mouth, feeling around for the tracker.

"You didn't have to do that," Steve says, his shoulders slumping as a lot of blood pours from her arm. She ignores the urge to sway from the blood loss, knowing that she's already lost a lot of blood from her back. Her eyes light up in triumph as she holds the tracker in the air, it covered in blood.

The man with the beard holds his hand out, "I'll take that." She looks from the tracker to his hand before dropping it into it. She places her fingers over the slice in her arm, knowing that it'll close withing a minute. It'll probably be completely healed within three days compared to the usual week or two.

She takes the dagger our of her mouth and wipes it on the front of her white shirt, not at all feeling bad considering that the back is covered with her blood. She drops it into her pocket, turning back to the man with the tablet.

"Hold your arms out," he says, tapping a few things on the screen. She does as he says as a blue light escapes the tablet, flickering over her body. It stops scanning her after two seconds and two seconds later, it beeps. She puts her arms down as he reads over the results, a frown pulling at his lips.

"How are you even standing right now?" he mutters, looking up at her with furrowed eyebrows. She stares at him blankly as the man who took her tracker, which is now in pieces and no longer working, looks at the tablet. He takes the tablet out of the other man's hands, letting out a low whistle as he looks over the results.

"Might want to sit down, girly," he says to her, making her frown. She doesn't sit down, however "According to my tablet, you're bleeding out." She stares blankly at him and raises an eyebrow. She knew she lost a lot of blood, but it's not too much to put her out of commission completely. Right now, considering it's early morning, she would be starting her daily training if the base hadn't been infiltrated.

"What do you mean she's bleeding out?" Steve asks, standing up and walking towards her. She tenses to avoid fidgeting as all of them basically surround her.

"Well, Capsicle," the man with the small beard says, pointing at the screen of the tablet. "She's got lacerations lacing her back that are currently open and bleeding." They all look to her for confirmation on this and she nods her head, telling them that it's true.

"Turn around," Natasha says, making her raise a questioning eyebrow. She clenches her jaw and refuses to turn around and show them where she's injured. The woman stares coolly into her eyes, but she still refuses. She's listened to what they've all said without any objections, and this is where she stops. She left with them to get away from orders. Not to get more.

"Guys, quit it," the Solder states, standing from where he sat next to her. Everyone turns to him, having not expected him to speak. "She's injured and you're cornering her. Not only that, but you want her to turn her back to you. Which, if you didn't know, takes a lot of trust. She doesn't know us and we're basically the enemy. Stand down." He stares hardly into their eyes and Steve looks like he wants to object, but one look at her, he stands down, sitting down in his seat.

Everyone else does as he says, albeit reluctantly, and return to their seats. The man who had taken the tablet back, frowns down at it. "Will you be fine until we make it back to the Tower?" he asks her. She sits down and nods. He sighs and walks back to the copilot seat, next to Natasha.

The Soldier sits down, but instead of having a seat separating the two of them, he sits in the chair next to hers. She looks at him slightly suspicious but nods to him in thanks. He nods back and leans back in the chair, closing his eyes.

She lets out a breath and leans back in her chair, wincing as her back makes contact with the back of the chair. "You can lay down behind me, if you want," the Soldier says. She turns to see him looking at her with his light blue eyes almost casually. She glances at the raised area behind their seats, but shakes her head.

"I'm fine." Her voice is still a bit airy and rough, though it doesn't crack. He nods and she watches as he leans down towards a duffel bag. He opens it and she can see his guns in it, though she doesn't worry about it too much. He rifles through his stuff before pulling out four items: Two water bottles and two sandwiches.

He holds a bottle of water out to her and a sandwich and she stares at it before looking back into his eyes. He cracks a small smile. "You don't have to worry about anything being drugged, though I suspect that the weak ones won't work." She stares at him for a few seconds before reaching out and taking the two items from him.

In truth, she's pretty hungry. Along with being whipped and stabbed with another new dose of serum, they had also not allowed her lunch or dinner for the day. It's been nearly a day since she's last eaten anything and about ten hours since her last drink.

"Thank you," she says, opening the water and taking a sip. It doesn't taste off, just cleaner. The Soldier nods back, opening his own water and sandwich. She looks at the sandwich before slowly opening it. She checks its contents in curiosity, rather than distrust. _This smells amazing,_ she thinks to herself. She takes a bite of one half, barely concealing her smile at the taste.

"If you want another," the Soldier starts, nudging at his nag. "I've got six more."


	4. Chapter 4

She stands as the quinjet lands, waiting until everyone's stepped out before even thinking about moving forward. It was decided not too long after she had eaten that the Soldier will show her to the med bay. They had made it clear that she'd have to get the lacerations running up and down her back cleaned out and cleared before being shown to her temporary place of residence.

He's already standing by the hatch door with his duffel bag slung over his shoulders. He's got mud all over his boots and on his knees and chest, and she suspects that he was providing cover for his teammates with his rifle not long before he joined Steve and found her.

He takes a look at her before nodding towards the exit of the jet. She cautiously makes her way through the door, the Soldier falling into step beside her. She stands as tall as she can with the wounds in her back but she'd be lying if she said that they didn't hurt with every step.

"How are your wounds?" the Soldier says in his quiet rasp, holding the glass door open for her. She nods to him as she passes through, knowing that he'll take the chance to check out the state of her blood-drenched shirt. She contemplates what to say before warily saying her response aloud.

"They've healed more with the water and food you've provided for me," she says slowly, her voice just as quiet as his. He nods his head and walks down the hall to the left. There are a few people in black, gray, and white clothing walking around, looking standard issued, and she waits for him to speak.

"I'll take you to medical first," he says, his voice still low but losing its rasp. "The white coats won't touch you much, though they'll have someone watching you. They know that you won't appreciate unneeded touching, so they'll just dress your wounds and I can show you the rest of the compound."

She nods her head, though curiosity fills her. She tries to tamp it down, knowing that curiosity always leads to bad things when it comes to being in a place where she doesn't have any allies. He leads her down the hallway before pushing open two glass doors. Through the windows on either side of the door, she can tell that this must be the med bay.

There are numerous chairs for a waiting area with a semicircular desk. There are two women and one man sitting there, typing on computers and looking through files. She shadows the powerful man up to the counter, the nurse in the center looking up as soon as he stops.

She stills for a moment, her eyes flicking over to her, before focusing back on the Soldier. "She is the soldier that Stark and Banner informed you about," he says to her in his deep voice. The small girl nods her head, typing a few things on the computer before turning to her.

"I'm going to need your name, age, and birthdate to check you in," the woman says in a monotone voice. Her jaw clenches as she tries to think of the information. She doesn't have a name and the only thing close to her name is Soldat or her codename, Crimson Rose. Her birthdate and age is common knowledge to her, it being mandatory to know back at base.

"Rose," she says at last, her voice sounding cold even to her own ears. "Twenty-four, January 5, 1992." The woman nods her head absentmindedly as she types in the information before looking back at the Solder beside her.+

"You can go ahead and head to room B-19 in the right wing. Doctor Conners will be with you two in five minutes." The Soldier nods his head and immediately heads to the hallway branching off to the right. She makes sure to keep behind him, walking behind his right elbow. She doesn't want to be any more vulnerable than she already is and she knows that metal arm of his is the strongest part of his body.

They pass numerous doors before he turns right and into an open door. She cautiously follows him into the room, shifting her foot in her boot to make sure that the other dagger is where she placed it. She can feel the weight of the other dagger in her pants pocket and it's reassuring to know that she's not completely helpless should she get cornered.

She glances at the Soldier, who's leaning against the far wall, for instructions and he nods towards the medical table in the center of the room. She effortlessly jumps on it, but the wounds on her back pull and she feels some of the scabs break and blood begin to trickle down her back.

She shifts around but ends up sitting straight and tense in the uncomfortable atmosphere, silently hoping that the white coat will come in soon so she can get out of here. She hates hospitals and med bays, and by the way the Soldier stands stiffly against the wall, she has a feeling that he may not be too comfortable surrounded the white walls and chemical smells.

Not even a minute later a tall lean man with wiry hair walks into the room, looking a little rushed. The Soldier scowls at the man and she has a feeling that he's not his biggest fan. She stares blankly into the balding man's brown eyes, not reacting to the fear she sees in them as well as the slight tremor in his hands.

He fiddles with the clipboard in his hands, flipping through various papers before finding what he seemed to be looking for. He fixes his crooked glasses before sending a wary glance to the stone-faced soldier and then facing her with a nervous look in his eyes.

"So, Rose was it?" he asks her, stumbling in the beginning for a moment. She stares blankly for a moment before slowly nodding her head, not use to the normal-sounding name. "Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner informed me that you have lacerations running up and down your back and you have low blood levels?" She nods her head, confirming the statement and he continues speaking.

"If you don't mind, Sergeant Barnes, but can you please leave the room?" Doctor Conners says, turning his gaze from her to the Soldier—who's apparently a Sergeant and whose last name is _Barnes_. The Sergeant stares at the doctor with narrowed eyes until the white coat explains. "She's going to have to remove her shirt so I can have access to the lacerations on her back. I'm pretty sure she'd rather have some privacy."

Both stare at the doctor, her with blank eyes as she doesn't care whether or not the Soldier sees her without a shirt and him with narrowed suspicious eyes. "How about this?" the lab coat says a little nervously. "Why don't you get Rose some juice and something light to eat to help her with her low blood level while I clean out those lacerations?" He glances between the two and she turns the gaze to the Sergeant, allowing him to make the decision.

The Soldier meets her eyes and she has a feeling that he's asking for her view of things. She looks over the white coat again, noticing how while he does look healthy, he's much slimmer than most males and his arms hold no muscles on them. _He shouldn't be too much of a threat and if he decides to reveal that to me, I've got my daggers,_ she thinks to herself.

Sergeant Barnes is still staring at her when she meets his gaze again and she gives him a small sharp nod. He, in turn, looks at the doctor and pushes off the wall, giving him a nod, and walks to the only exit of the room. "I'll be back in ten minutes," he says in that low tone of his.

Her eyes follow him and he closes the door behind him, making her return her gaze to the nervous white coat. She stares blankly at him and he shifts nervously until he speaks up, a stutter in his voice. "Will you please remove your shirt and show me your back? I need access to your back," Conners says, making her do as he says immediately.

She doesn't spare a thought about her body as the blood-stained white shirt easily slides off her. She drops it to the floor and spins around so her back is facing the man, though she makes sure to keep tabs on him.

Her sports bra straps are pressing against a few of the marks and are currently sticking to the wounds due to the dried blood. "You're going to have to remove your undergarment as well," the doctor says, handing a bundle of cloth to her. "I'll step out of the room as you put that gown on, though just keep the back open.

She nods without comment and waits until she hears the door close shut before pulling off the tight garment. She hisses as it tugs on her wounds and makes them throb, though she manages to get them off her. She slips her arms through her armholes and leaves the back open as instructed. A few seconds later, a knock sounds on the door before it creaks open.

She hears the slight whine of the white coat's leather shoes and keeps her back near him, watching him out of the very corner of her eye. She places her hands on her thighs, her right hand close enough to her pocket that she'll easily be able to grab the dagger to defend herself.

The white coat putters around the room, grabbing various objects. She spots him grab a few gauze pads and bandages, a rag, a bottle of antiseptic, and a few other items. He sets them on the tray next to the bed before speaking to her.

"I'm going to disinfect the wounds so you won't get an infection before I check to see which ones require stitches and which do not," he explains, his voice much calmer and even than before. "After I'll bandage them and you should be good to go." She nods her head in acknowledgment and she hears him unscrew the lid to the bottle.

She breathes in deeply to brace herself for the pain, knowing how painful the liquid could be from when she was forced to go to the medbay back at the base. She bites her lip since he can't see her as he applies the liquid, clenching both of her fists as her muscles tense against her will.

She breathes out slowly as her wounds open and throb, making the disinfection seem much more painful. This goes on for another minute or two until the man puts the two items down. "Lucky for you, these wounds don't need any stitches, though I'd advise for you not to push yourself too hard lest you reopen your wounds again," the doctor says, smudging some sort of cream or salve on each mark before bandaging them all. She nods despite knowing that she'll end up pushing herself.

Right before the white coat finishes with the bandaging, Sergeant Barnes walks into the room, a juice box and cookie in his hand. The only reason as to why she knows what the items are is due to some of her missions where she's heard children and the occasional adult speak about them. Apparently, cookies taste good and the juice in juice boxes also taste good.

He stops as he sees her, though he continues heading for her, handing her the items. She takes them without a word, looking at the directions on the box before shoving the straw before the small film hole. She sips on the juice, finding that it tastes somewhat like apples and she actually likes it. She takes the cookie out of the wrapper and finds that she likes it, too.

She places the items down when the doctor speaks again. "Pain medication will be delivered to your room and all you have to do is read the directions on the bottle," he says, beginning to put his materials away. "You can put your clothes back on and you can be on your way."

She swiftly does as he says, not even waiting for the two men to leave the room, before turning around. The doctor had left and now she's faced with the ice colored eyes of the Soldier. He nods to her and tilts his head towards the door.

"Follow me and I'll show you to your room."


	5. Chapter 5

She follows a step behind the Soldier on his right, avoiding his metal arm. She's heard about how strong that arm is and she'd rather not be vulnerable to that strength in her current condition. "You'll be staying in the room next to mine," Sergeant Barnes says. She doesn't react and he continues. "You'll have restricted access to our floor, the common room, our private gym, and the communal kitchen."

Her eyes watch his predatory gait as he leads them into an elevator. She stands tensely in the small space and is silently relieved when the doors slide open less than ten seconds later. The tall man turns right down a hall and leads her to the last room on the right. He pushes the door open and gestures for her to enter. She does so immediately with caution, her eyes flickering to the windows and the open doors leading to areas that she cannot see.

"This is your room," the Soldier needlessly explains. She nods her head and glances at him as he leans against the door frame. He points to the wall to her left. "My room is right there, Steve's is right next to mine." She nods her head, looking at the sparsely decorated room.

It's a small sitting room with a small kitchenette to her right. The sitting room has a couch, a television, a coffee table, bookshelf, and one chair. The kitchenette runs along the right wall with a small fridge, microwave, sink, and electric stove-top one the counter. There's a small island with two bar stools on the living room side.

The Soldier gains her full attention as he speaks quietly again. "Stark should have some clothes delivered for you in a little bit. Just give a yell or ask the AI, Friday, if you need anything. Go ahead and take a shower or mess with the tv, if you want." She nods and he promptly leaves, closing the door behind him.

She walks around the room in curiosity. Her cell was small. The far wall was her bed and about five feet separated it from her barred metal door and wall. This room is a far cry from what she's used to and the two doors in front of her leave her to believe that there is more to the room.

The door on the left leads to a decent sized bedroom, _with an actual bed_ , and she curiously pushes open the door on the right. She flicks the lights on to find a bathroom. The sink is in front of her, the toilet is next to her, and the bath and shower combo is next to that.

She walks towards the shower and turns the water on, fixing the faucet so that the water comes out of the shower head. She turns the handle so that it's directed in red and she practically purrs out as the water turns hot.

She shivers as her skin forms goosebumps. With the door closed and locked so no one can enter, she immediately strips out of her dirty blood-stained clothing, making sure to stash her daggers behind the towels. The Soldier _did_ say that she could shower.

There's already toiletries in the bathroom, and while the steaming water stings her back, she can't help but load a washcloth with soap and clean herself with it. She's heard that Hydra would hose some of their soldiers down with freezing water and she's glad that she was allowed to shower, no matter how short the time allotment was or how cold the water was. At least she had that kind of privacy.

The doctor hadn't bandaged up her wounds, most likely knowing that she heals quickly and that she would get a shower, and she doesn't care about that much. She was never allowed bandages unless she got shot or she had a cut that required stitches. And even then it was a dirty rag.

If she felt that the warm and hot water felt amazing, the feeling of her skin and scalp after washing is absolutely _heavenly_. She's wrapping a robe around her when she hears a faint knock on her door. She slips a dagger into her robe sleeve and hesitantly pulls open the door, tensing for a possible attack.

Instead of being faced with a large man with a gun, a short woman with three bags answers her. She steps back confusedly to allow the girl with reddish-brown hair to enter her quarters, making sure to keep an eye on her just in case.

"Hello," the woman with an accent, which she identifies as Sokovian, says. She places the bags on the coffee table before turning to her tense form. She smiles warmly at her. "I'm Wanda. Tony asked me to get you some things when you were on your way here. Just tell me if something fits wrong, all I had were estimates based on that scan Bruce did of you.

 _So the man with the calm facade is Bruce._ She nods at the younger woman. "Rose," she introduces herself, the name will foreign on her tongue. "Thank you," she adds on. The girl smiles at her, waves, and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her.

 _The people here are not..._ _normal._ She cautiously peaks into the bags on the coffee table, half expecting them to blow up or something, and she blinks at the dark-colored cloth in them. She empties the bags on the wooden table. There are a few short sleeved shirts, a few long sleeved ones, a hoodie, some leggings, and some jeans. There are some undergarments in there, too, and she immediately rips the tags off them and pulls them on. They fit a little loosely, but they won't be falling off her any time soon.

She pulls on a rust red long sleeved shirt and some light grey sweats on. They're not baggy like the ones that she was wearing earlier and they have a drawstring that makes it so they can't fall off her hips. She grabs the clothing and puts them in a few drawers in her bedroom before sitting on the couch in silence.

 _What now?_ she asks herself. She's always had orders and to suddenly have none... She doesn't know what to do. She recalls the words that the Soldier spoke to her earlier and she picks up the remote to the television.

She knows how to work it in theory, but the only glimpse she's got of the screen was when some of the recruits back at base were lounging around when she went to training. She remembers that when they watched it, a lot of yelling was involved.

She clicks the button that she knows is the power button and jumps as the television clicks on, the volume louder than she expected it to be. Fumbling with the remote, she locates the volume button and immediately turns it down. Her heart is racing from the sudden noise and she pulls a blanket from the back of the couch around her shoulders.

She pokes around with the remote, learning how to use it, before searching for something that sounds good to watch. She stops on a movie about a girl with really long hair who lives in a tower. _I wonder what this is about..._


End file.
